Ignorant Shit

Drake

  • 																					Yeah, I appreciate your patience tonight
    It’s been a moment since I done some public speaking
    I find nowadays its best to keep quiet
    But Uh
    Sometimes you just gotta let it out
    Young Angel and Young Lion
    You know What I is


    Ughh Look
    I’m the property of October
    I ain’t drive here
    I got chauffeured
    Bring me champagne flutes, rose and some shots over
    I think better when I’m not sober
    I Smoke goodie no glaucoma
    I’m a stock holder
    Private flights back home
    No stop over
    Still spittin’ that shit that they shot Pac over
    The shit my mother looked shocked over
    Haha Yeah
    What a canvas
    I’m the group of 7
    Migraine, take 2 Excedrin
    I’m the one twice over
    I’m the new 11
    And if I die
    I’m do it reppin’
    I never do it second
    I swear niggaz be eyeing me all hard
    And lying to their girls
    And drivin’ the same cars
    Sittin’ there,
    Wishing their problems became ours
    Cuz we have nothing in common
    Since I done became star
    I done became bigger
    Swervin’ right into my peer’s lanes
    Same dudes that used to holler my engineer’s name
    One touch
    I could make the drapes and the sheers change
    And show me the city
    That I without fear claim
    What I set seems to never extinguish
    Coolest kid out baby
    Word to Chuck Inglish
    Count my own money
    See the paper cut fingers
    My song is your girlfriend’s wakin’ up ringer
    Haha
    Or alarm or whatever
    She be here 6 in the morn
    If I let her
    But I never get attracted to fans
    Cuz a eager beaver
    Could be the collapse of a dam
    Always knew that I could figure
    How to get these label heads to offer him good figures
    And me doing the shows
    Getting everyone nervous
    Cuz them hipsters gone have to get along with them hood niggaz
    Its all good
    I’m going off like lights when the shows’ over
    Make Pasta rent a movie called Hoes over
    Rest in peace to Heath Ledger
    But I’m no Joker
    I’ll slow roast ya
    Got no holster
    Wet glass on your table nigga
    No coaster
    Burn bread everyday boy
    No toaster
    G & Terrence got a cig
    But I’m no smoker
    They just handed chips to me nigga
    No poker
    I’m with a young money cash money soldier
    My cup runneth over
    The same niggas I ball with
    I fall with
    On some southern draw shit
    Rookie of the year
    06, Chris Paul shit
    D.R., CJ & Po
    I see y’all
    These cases don’t work out
    I hope we can agree on
    Makin enough to pay any judge Judy off
    First thing I’m a do is
    Free Weezy
    Go..

    And I’ll take probation
    I don’t want that T.I. and Vick vacation
    Private plane
    Pick location
    I’m going to the bank
    To make a big donation
    Yeah
    I don’t stunt
    I stunt hard
    And If the food ain’t on the stove
    I hunt for it
    But in the mean time
    You can call me Young Roy Jones Junior
    Fightin’ the drugs and gun charges
    Shit
    Don’t leave me unguarded
    And I’m a cheese head
    Word to Vince Lambardy
    Word to Marky Mark
    Leave a snitch departed
    All that blood like the red tea party
    My gun go crazy like its retarded
    Red light on it like its recordin’
    I ain’t recordin’
    I’m Just C-4ing
    My currency foreign
    We are in
    A league they aren’t
    Better dig in your pocket
    And pay homage
    Better cover your eyes
    Your face fallin’
    Watch the game from the side
    I’m play callin’
    No, I didn’t say that I’m flawless
    but I
    Damn sure don’t tarnish
    My pistol got comments
    For your garments
    I’m so high
    I can vomit on a comet
    K.Y. No Homo
    I’m on it
    Weezy F baby
    Newborn bitch
    You know what they say bout when your palm itch
    I’m gone get money
    Money I’m gone get
    Young Money in your tummy
    And we gone shit
    And get that toilet paper quick
    Like when Bone spit
    That’s right bitch
    I’m back on my grown shit
    That automark game
    No ice, just chrome shit
    And you boyfriend softer than a foam pit
    I scream fuck the world
    With a long dick
    Motherfucker I’m me
    Yeah
    Bitch I’m me
    you niggas sweet like the pussy
    In which I eat
    Fireman burn down your entire street
    So fly I’m take off when I leap
    Bye….
    And you can suck my wings
    Stand on my money
    Head butt Yao Ming
    Put your hand in the oven
    If you touch my things
    I’m shufflin’ my cards
    im Bout to cut my queens
    Hehe
    But I ain’t the dealer
    House full of bitches like Tila Tequila
    Yeah
    I’m the man in the mirror
    My swagger just screaming
    Motherfucker!
    Do you hear her?
    Yeah
    Drizzy Drake
    What the lick read?
    We make magic
    Boy
    Roy & Siegfreid


    Wooh!
    Young Mullah Baby
    Yeah

Compositor: Drake, Lil Wayne

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